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The flesh hungers for Vengeance. Beneath, blood runs hot, Blood lust rising Barely contained. Black whispers with Silver tongues Caress fresh wounds With shadow tendrils. Dark wings, dark words, Fire is fueled as Gilded shackles constrain. Chafed wrists bleed with Fresh Vigor. The Blood is the life, Falls wearily to the floor. Hot crimson stark Against the unforgiving stone. Rage fades to agony. The weight of despair, Crushing. Strength of the Hammer, Phoenix Rising, Come What May...
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Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC
The Black Sheep
The flesh hungers for Vengeance. Beneath, blood runs hot, Blood lust rising Barely contained. Black whispers with Silver tongues Caress fresh wounds With shadow tendrils. Dark wings, dark words, Fire is fueled as Gilded shackles constrain. Chafed wrists bleed with Fresh Vigor. The Blood is the life, Falls wearily to the floor. Hot crimson stark Against the unforgiving stone. Rage fades to agony. The weight of despair, Crushing. Strength of the Hammer, Phoenix Rising, Come What May...
Written by
American
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC
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